Sunday, 8 March 2015

Marathon Training Week 2/Galentines Day!

Happy Galentines Day!  Or the closest actual official day to it.... International Women's Day!  Hurrah!  Before I regale you with further tales of my adventures in marathon training, I will share with you some quotes from famous laydees I admire/love/creep on:

"You do it becase the doing of it is the thing. The talking and worrying and thinking is not the thing."
- Amy Poehler, Yes Please

“So, my unsolicited advice to women in the workplace is this. When faced with sexism, or ageism, or lookism, or even really aggressive Buddhism, ask yourself the following question: “Is this person in between me and what I want to do?” If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you.” 
 - Tina Fey, Bossypants

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."
- Maya Angelou

“I’m neither ‘pro-women’ nor ‘anti-men’. I’m just ‘Thumbs up for the six billion”  
- Caitlin Moran (How To Be a Woman)

"One time, I accidentally drank an entire bottle of vinegar.   I thought it was terrible wine."
- Leslie Knope (Parks and Recreation)  

Such wisdom.

...And now to neatly slide down the staircase (on my bottom, of course) from  inspirational women to running - if you have any interest in both, you should read superhero blogger (whose life and running tights I covet) Bangs and a Bun's post about celebrating International Women's Day through movement:

Brill read, and it'll make you want to tear your day a new one.  Guaranteed.

Anyhoo, running!  This is what my week looked like:

  • Mon   4 miles   
  • Tues  Rest 
  • Wed   3 miles 
  • Thur  3 miles 
  • Fri      Rest 
  • Sat     7 miles followed by surreal night out in a teeny, uv-lit karaoke booth (I didn't sing.  However, I did attempt to rap a fraction of Eminem's Guess Who's Back before remembering that my accent is far too posh for me to sound like the credible bad ass gangsta rapper I secretly know I am inside.  Biatch.  etc) 
  • Sun   Pizza.  Lots of pizza

I know. I'm practically Paula Radcliffe already, aren't I?  Last night was the last booze-fueled one (in theory) I'll have on a Saturday in a good, long while now.  The thought of doing double digit Sunday runs on a hang over makes my guts do a backflip.  Would be the stuff of nightmares.  Serious times from next week onwards! 

Didn't attempt to add any CrossFit into the mix this week because I was just too bloody thrilled to be able to run again now that my ankle is back in action, and I'm enjoying the freedom to be able to shuffle around my neighborhood again, regardless of pace.  Been having fun, but, blimey - I forgot how chuffing uncomfortable running is!

Sounds stupid because I've been doing it for a while now, so the notion of my forgetting how it feels just seems daft, but it really did slip my mind how much mental grit you need at your disposal in order to keep on moving.  

After six weeks of wistfully staring at other people bouncing around in their lycra pants, I was only concentrating on the freeing feelings that come with getting a bit out of puff in the great outdoors.  By "great outdoors", I mean that bit of land with some trees and a pond on it near my house.  I forgot that the biggest thing I get out of exercise is the amazing "fuck yeah!!" feeling of getting through the tougher bits.  The horrible, gritty bits that that add a little to your character every time you knuckle down and get the hell through them.

Yesterday, all was fine and dandy until about mile six when my legs took it upon themselves to turn into actual lead.  The dominating thought I was having was 

"God, I'm going so slow, I must be rubbish at running if I'm struggling at this speed." 

Stupid brain.  After a bit of rest and recalibration (and cider.  More than a bit of cider.  Mmm, cider), I recalled that the struggle in any kind of exercise (or life in general, if you want me to get all deep on you) is kind of the point.  Every time you get through a tough patch, just getting through it is its own reward.  It's your opportunity to remind your body who is in charge, and to find strength in knowing that it's simply not in you to give up at the first sign of discomfort.

I can't wait for my mileage to start creeping up in the coming weeks.  Bring on the aches, bring on the tantrums, and bring on the feelings of accomplishment. 

And the medal.  Obviously.

Also, I very nearly drew a kangaroo with my run tracker yesterday.  So close:

Disclaimer:  An Australian relative I know through Facebook informs me that this looks more like a wallaby.  Whether she is just screwing with me remains to be seen.

Hope you're having a cracking weekend, whatever you're doing!  Word to the wise: Discomfort in exercise is a good thing.  Discomfort in eating pizza is not.  Grit and determination in that case leads only to burps and sadness.  I am living proof of this today.  Oof.

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